Chapter 15 - JULIAN’S LETTER
Julian wrote from prison.
One letter.
I let it sit for two months.
Then opened it.
Audrey,
I used to think the worst thing I did was grab you.
It wasn’t.
It was deciding your no was a problem to solve.
I stopped.
Accurate.
He continued:
I loved you. I also used fear and money to keep you. I thought those things could exist together without changing the meaning of love.
They could not.
Then:
I am sorry I threw your suitcase. I remember thinking if your clothes were on the ground, you would stop and pick them up. I wanted to interrupt leaving.
That detail chilled me.
Not rage.
Strategy inside rage.
The suitcase was not random.
He tried to create friction.
Delay.
Control.
Then:
I understand now why Dad used to say foreclosure is a family trauma. Mom never recovered. I inherited her panic and treated it like permission.
Again.
Explanation.
Not excuse.
He did not ask forgiveness.
Good.
I did not reply.
Not because cruel.
Because the letter did not create an obligation.
May you like
His accountability could exist without access to me.
That was one of the strongest lessons I had learned.
